Friday, July 6, 2012

Abacus

It was night. They were sitting around the fire drinking
and exchanging stories of their lives to scare the cold away. Suddenly, they
turned to her.

“You’ve been quiet all this time. Tell us a story, a
true story,” they asked. She thought for a few moments and then started.

"A while back, a young man I know used to walk up Noble
Street coming back from work and always stopped at the window of the bookstore.
In a dark forgotten corner of that window sat an abacus. Made of wood, it
seemed to call him, to draw him. Many times he felt tempted to go inside the
bookstore and ask for its price He wasn’t brave enough to do so though. And the
abacus sat there, waiting for him.

Until one day, as he approached the store, he noticed
something was wrong. The abacus was gone. In a frantic panic, he walked inside
and asked the old man at the counter if the abacus had been sold. The old man
said yes; it had been there for such
a long time that he had sold it to the first offer he got, a mighty low one
too. He was distraught. If only he had summoned enough courage before… Perhaps
the abacus would’ve been his. Furious, he decided to walk a different path from
then on and forget the darn abacus. It was just an object anyway.

Seven months later, after a rough day at work, he
walked home immersed in his thoughts, and without noticing, he walked up that
street again. When he realized what happened, he was standing in front of the
bookstore looking at the window. Wouldn’t
it be amazing if the abacus were suddenly back, he thought. It wasn’t. The old man standing at the door
waved at him. He was in a terrible mood and making small talk with a stranger
wasn’t part of his list of priorities, so he prepared to move on but the old
man was faster and grabbed his wrist.

“I knew you’d come back,” he said. “Follow me.”

“I… I must go…”

“Come,” the old man waved for him to follow. “I want
to show you something.”

Resigned, he crossed the store and walked into a small
room at the back. When his eyes got used to the dim light, he saw it.

“Isn’t it amazing?” asked the old man, beaming.

He was speechless.

“I got it
back,” the old man said. “I got it back for you.”

“I don’t understand…”

“I saw your sadness and called the buyer. He really
didn’t want this abacus. He was just looking for something to decorate his
office and the abacus looked… I believe the word he used was prestigious.” The
old man adjusted his position slightly. “But now I want you to have it.”

“I don’t have money… really, I don’t.”

“It’s for you, a gift.” The old man smiled. He had
prepared this a long time ago, but the young man had disappeared.

“I don’t understand… Why would you go through so much
trouble for a complete stranger?”

“Well, you know that the abacus represents fortune.
There are many ways to have fortune. One is obvious, money. I cannot give you
that, and then again…” The old man smiled mischievously. “The other is a
smile. I can give you that. And finally, I can also offer you a friend, me!”

The young man was moved. He held the abacus, smiled
and hugged the old man, who was as happy as he could possibly be.

Well, finally let me tell you that the young man left his
miserable job and took over the bookstore with enthusiasm. The old man now does
what he loves doing, sorting through old dusty gems of literature, giving
advice on which books people should take and offering a nice cup of coffee to everyone
who walks in, encouraging them to sit down for a bit and read something. People
love it.

The abacus, well the abacus is still there. And it will always be there, bringing fortune,
in more ways than one can imagine, to all those who walk up that street and go inside
that very special bookstore.”

Everyone around the fire remained silent. She could
almost hear them think that it must feel good to be offered a smile, a hug and
a new life.